


Dad Burn

by sn0wfl4k3s



Series: Pynch Week 2016 [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Sunburn, mentions of opal, mild junk-touching, no junk is explicitly mentioned they just make out a little and are gay, ok maybe not mild but it's ronan, parrish-lynch family bonding, post- parrish-lynch family bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sn0wfl4k3s/pseuds/sn0wfl4k3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pynch Week Day 2: Sun-kissed Skin</p><p>Ronan is Really White and this results in an interesting sunburn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dad Burn

**Author's Note:**

> foolish ronan. every white person knows you never fall asleep at the beach!

Ronan couldn’t hear himself think over the snickers coming from behind him. “Done laughing? Are you going to help or not?”

His boyfriend put a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Yes dear. I just-” More snorts.

Ronan would have punched him if his skin weren’t so tight.

The day before, the little Parrish-Lynch family had decided that the hot weather and sunny skies had meant that a trip to the beach was in order. Two hours into the trip, all the running around and the swimming and the keeping up with his hellbeast child had tired Ronan out, and so he did what any father at the beach would do and took a quick nap. This would have been fine if he were, say, Adam, whose beautifully tanned skin and inability to be fazed by even the most unreasonable of temperatures was a testament to the aesthetic of the rustic Virginian, but Ronan’s delicate Irish complexion was not built to weather the southern sun. Plus, he’d been asleep for like four hours and neither of the assholes he’d brought with him thought to bring sunscreen with them.

The result was this: the most embarrassing sunburn that Ronan Lynch had ever seen. His skin was cherry red, save for a few spots: the area around his eyes where his sunglasses had been, the perfect outline of his arm where he’d rested it against his stomach in his sleep, and the vague shape of a flip flop and his car keys that his loving daughter had placed on his chest once she realised what was going to happen. 

And now his boyfriend was sat behind him, mashing some magical herbs into a paste that would hopefully stop everything from hurting so much, and laughing his ass off.

“You know, I think it looks good! You should get a new tattoo,” Adam said, smirking into his mortar and pestle. 

“Shut the fuck up Parrish. Get over here and smear that disgusting plant shit on me.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “You can’t do that yourself?”

“This is your punishment.”

Adam snorted, settling in front of Ronan and gathering some goop onto his hands. “Really? Rubbing my hands all over your naked torso is punishment?” he teased.

Ronan was glad his blush wouldn’t be noticeable underneath all that red. It would ruin his street cred. “No. Your punishment is rubbing your hands all over my naked torso and not being able to do anything about it.”

“Cruel,” Adam laughed, pressing a light kiss to Ronan’s cheek and setting to work. Ronan had to admit, the cool slide of the paste against his hot, dry skin felt heavenly. And Adam’s hands. Adam’s hands felt heavenly. “But how are  _ you _ going to handle it?”

Ronan made a noncommittal sound. “You’re not that cute.”

Adam laughed, spreading the paste across Ronan’s arms, shoulders, chest, abs, getting lower and lower until his hands brushed the waistband of Ronan’s shorts. Ronan’s breathing hitched as Adam looked up at him through thick lashes. “Still not cute?”

“Shut up, Parrish.”

“Are you gonna shut me up?”

Ronan rolled his eyes and tipped forward, meeting Adam’s lips with his own. His hands cradled Adam’s face and Adam’s stayed where they were, rubbing at the feverish skin at Ronan’s hipbones, occasionally swiping a finger or two down beneath the waistband, but never enough. Ronan deepened the kiss, wanting to press his chest against Adam’s but wary of the rough fabric of Adam’s shirt brushing against his burn. A little bit of talent with his tongue, and Adam seemed appreciative enough to slide his hand down to where Ronan really wanted it. Ronan pushed up, moaned against Adam’s lips, tangled his fingers in Adam’s hair and-

“Are you laughing?” Ronan leaned back a bit to see that his boyfriend was, in fact, laughing.

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Adam wheezed. “You look so ridiculous! You’ve got a dad burn.”

Ronan scoffed. “Three things: One, don’t laugh at me when you have your hand down my pants; Two, don’t call me a dad when you have your hand down my pants; and Three, get your hand out of my pants.”

Adam obliged, sitting back on his feet and still bent over laughing. “I can’t do it! I can’t have sex with you like this, you’re too hilarious.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, you can’t, remember? That’s what I just said.”

Ronan huffed and shoved Adam’s shoulder. Adam fell back onto the bed, giggling like a maniac.

“Give me this shit,” Ronan grumbled, grabbing the stone bowl full of goo. “I’ll put it on myself.”

“I’m so sorry babe, I just- the sunglasses- and the arm-” He dissolved into more giggles.

Ronan got up from the bed. “You’re the worst.”

“I know. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Still the worst,” Ronan called as he shut the door to their bedroom behind him. He had a sunburn to take care of.

This was all Opal’s fault.


End file.
